


Rewards For Assertion

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom helps someone achieve a dream and in doing so earns his own reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewards For Assertion

Tom made his way to one of the smaller observation lounges. He found it a good place to go when he couldn’t stand to spend any more time in his quarters, but he didn’t feel like going to sleep. Lost in thought, he rounded the bend in the corridor and bumped into Megan Delaney. She was also not paying attention to her surroundings, being engrossed in a low-voiced conversation she was having with herself.

“No. I don’t want to…Oof!” Megan rubbed her head and looked dazedly at Tom.

“Sorry Megan. I wasn’t concentrating.” Tom hastened to apologize. “What don’t you want to do?” he asked when her words finally penetrated his consciousness.

“Nothing…” Megan paused, “Anyway, what are you doing here at this time?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” replied Tom laconically. “You?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

Tom peered at Megan and reached a decision. He indicated the observation lounge. 

“Wanna talk?”

Megan vacillated for a moment.

“I’m a good listener,” cajoled Tom.

A small smile crept over Megan’s face and she nodded.

They entered the observation lounge and Tom seated himself at the opposite end of the window seat. He waited.

“It’s this Federation Day party. Jenny wants us to go as Hayley and Kayley Robinson.”

“The first twins in space from the mid twenty-first century.” Tom nodded in recognition.

“Yes, but I don’t want to. It’s too corny. She always wants us to go as a twin couple to these things, and she never asks my opinion.” 

Tom leant forward and spread his hands, and Megan began airing her grievances more fully. It helped to have someone to listen and before she knew it, she was telling Tom what was really upsetting her. The Robinson twins had only been the last straw.

Megan Delaney was an individual. She was tired of being one of ‘the Delaney Twins’. She’d had enough of Jenny making all the decisions simply by virtue of being the elder twin. Megan didn’t like doing all the same things Jenny did; she didn’t even like the same people. She didn’t want to double-date any more.

At that, Tom blushed. He’d pushed Harry often enough to double-date the Delaney twins with him. Megan took in Tom’s embarrassment and hastened to reassure him.

“It’s okay, Tom. That was a long time ago. Anyway, what I was trying to do when we bumped into each other was find a way to tell Jenny I was not going to the ‘Federation Famous Person’ party as Kayley Robinson without sounding too…too…too whiny or something. It was going to be the first step in claiming my individuality. God, now I sound like another Borg reclamation project. ” She paused. “But, I don’t want to hurt Jenny in the process. She is my twin after all, and I love her.”

“Okay. I get it. You want to be assertive without being aggressive, so you get what you want without tramping all over Jenny at the same time. You want to leave her knowing you’re still her sister, and that you still want her to be part of your life, just not control you.”

“That’s it, Tom. Have you got any ideas?”

“The party is as good a place to start as any. Umm, is there anyone you particularly wanted to go with?”

Megan colored faintly, and nodded. “Carla Swinn.”

“Ensign Swinn? From Biophysics?” 

“Yes. Carla and I have been working out together in the gym for a while. It’s one of the few places I get to see her without Jenny being around, but we want to do something other than go on exercise dates.”

“But you and Jenny always date men,” Tom said without thinking.

“Jenny always dates men. I’m not Jenny. Haven’t you been listening, Tom?”

“Sorry, Megan. You threw me a bit. You’re right. You’re not Jenny. I just hadn’t recognized you as being so passive. I always thought you both were full of confidence…”Tom stopped himself before he let something slip, and continued, “I would be honored to help you assert yourself and claim your individuality, and to that, I have an idea for the party. Would you, and Carla, be interested in going in a group?”

“I guess so. With you?”

“With you two, that would make seven of us.”

“Seven what?” 

“Captain Kirk’s crew!” said Tom with a verbal flourish. “I’ve already lined up Harry to be Sulu, and Rollins to be Chekov. I still have to ask Frank Murphy to be Dr McCoy and Vorik to be Spock. You can be Yeoman Rand and Carla can be Uhura. What do you think?”

“I take it you’re Kirk,” Megan said dryly.

“Naturally.” 

“That would be great, Tom. Say, you should ask Sarah Jenkins to be Nurse Chapel. She’s dating Frank. But what will I do about telling Jenny?”

“I’ll help you. We can go through a few scenarios if you like. Can you stay a little longer? Won’t Jenny be missing you?”

“She hurt her back and the Doctor gave her something to help her sleep. I’m okay for a while longer.”

The two of them spent almost an hour trying out the various ideas Megan had for telling Jenny, and some new ones of Tom’s, and also discussing what made people aggressive, assertive or passive. They finally found something Megan thought would work. 

As they turned to leave, Megan looked into Tom’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Tom smiled and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I look forward to seeing the new Megan Delaney emerge.”

She smiled back, and then remarked, “You know, Tom, for someone who understands so much about being assertive, I can’t work out why you are so passive.”

Tom just gaped. 

Megan continued, “You allow others to choose for you, you’re angry at yourself, you let yourself be manipulated, and you’re self-denying and emotionally dishonest with yourself. You don’t need to be like that. You’re a good man Tom.”

“How did you…?”

“Now you’ve pointed it out to me, I can recognize it in you. It explains so much, Tom,” said Megan seriously. “We should work together, you know. I’ll help you to become assertive as well, and maybe you’ll get the one person you really want,” she added mischievously. “You don’t really want to ask Vorik to be Spock. I mean, come on, look at Kirk and Spock - it’s a sign you should ask Commander Chakotay to be Spock.”

“How did you…?” repeated Tom.

“I’ve got eyes. I’ve seen you watching him. You keep an eye on him in the Mess Hall, in Sandrine’s, the Resort. It’s okay, you’re not obvious, except maybe to me, and I think maybe Tuvok. That’s only because he’s head of security and being observant goes with the job, not to mention being Vulcan, whereas I like people watching, and let’s face it, there’s not a whole lot of people around here to watch.”

Tom processed a whole lot of thoughts at maximum warp and reached a decision.

“Put it here, partner.” He grinned and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to D-PAN!”

“Dee-pan?”

“The Delaney- Paris Assertion Network.”

 

~

 

It was almost time for the two members of the Delaney-Paris Assertion Network to meet at their ‘headquarters’ in the small observation lounge where they’d formed the network the previous night. Tom arrived early and headed straight for the viewport. He stared out into the blackness. Megan was to tell him how things had gone with her first efforts at asserting herself, and he was to reciprocate.

Tom felt a little guilty. He had only to ask four people if they wanted to attend the ‘Federation Famous Person’ party as part of his group, and dress up as members of Captain Kirk’s crew. He’d asked three, all of whom had agreed, but hadn’t quite managed to assert himself to ask the fourth person. He automatically ran through a number of excuses in his mind he could give as to why he hadn’t issued the final invitation. None of the reasons was an outright lie. He slowly discarded them all. Being dishonest with himself was one of the characteristics of passivity he was looking to discard.

Tom turned as Megan entered. She stopped in the middle of the room. Her expression was neutral.

Tom called for a privacy lock and then raised his eyebrows. “Well?” 

“Oh Tom,” she said, and then paused. She took a step toward him, and then grinned. “I did it. I actually said no!” 

An answering grin covered Tom’s face and the two of them reached to one another for a celebratory hug. 

Tom dragged Megan over to the window seat. They settled facing each other.

“Tell me.”

“Oh God. I still can’t believe it. I said no to Jenny, and it worked! I remembered everything we talked about: actually saying no, shaking my head instead of nodding and smiling, keeping it brief and not apologizing. You were right about having to repeat myself. I think she got it after the fourth time.”

“Congratulations! So it was easier than you thought?”

“Well, no. I had to really fight myself not to give in at the first ‘Don’t be silly, Megan. Of course you are going to be Kayley Robinson.’ It’s such an ingrained reflex. She made me feel so guilty for even considering not going with her.”

“Uh uh. No guilt.” 

“No guilt,” repeated Megan.

Tom reached down and picked up a box he’d earlier placed in an unobtrusive position by the window seat. He presented it Megan.

“This is for you. I knew you’d do it.”

“Why, Tom…”

Megan lifted the lid, and took out Tom’s gift. It was a blonde wig, styled in Yeoman Rand’s trademark weave. She laughed.

“I love it! Thank you.” Megan pulled the wig carefully over her head and pretended to hand Tom some PADDs. “Captain Kirk, here are the reports you requested.”

The two of them fooled around for a few minutes as Tom slipped into the role of Kirk with ease. All too soon, Megan removed the wig and asked the question Tom had been dreading.

“So how did you go?”

“Frank, Sarah and Carla all agreed to be part of the group.”

“And Commander Chakotay?”

“I…umm…I haven’t asked him yet.”

”The party is in four days. You need to do it soon, Tom.”

Tom nodded morosely.

“I haven’t heard that he’s going with anyone else. Jenny would have mentioned it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. She’s such a gossip magnet. So, ‘partner’, let’s talk this through. Jenny’s not expecting me back for a while yet.” Megan found she enjoyed asserting herself. Her next hurdles would be refusing any future double date Jenny planned without consulting her, and then telling her about Carla. In the mean time, she would try to help Tom achieve his goal. “So what’s the worst thing he can do? Say no?”

“How about, punch my lights out and throw me out of his quarters, a bruised and bleeding mess?” 

“Come off it, that’s a slight exaggeration! You’re only going to ask him to be part of our fancy dress group. It’s not as if you’re asking him out on a date, and you’re not going to jump him. At least not yet! Now, I’ll be Chakotay first.”

A while later, Megan picked up the box containing her wig and bid Tom goodnight.

“I’ll be here, 2100 hours tomorrow night, waiting to hear your news.”

“2100. Okay. Goodnight, Megan, and thanks. Pleasant dreams!” 

Tom returned to the viewport, and once more stared at the stars. He came to a decision and asked the computer for the location of Commander Chakotay. On hearing he was in his quarters, and alone, Tom left D-PAN’s headquarters. As he walked to the turbolift, he listened to Megan’s voice in his head reminding him to stay calm, be pleasant and not make any reflex smart-alecky comments if things did not go exactly as he hoped. ‘Be Tom, not a Paris’ had been her final piece of advice.

Tom stood at Chakotay’s door and taking a breath, pressed the chime. The door slid open. 

“Lieutenant Paris. May I help you?”

“Ah, Commander, do you have a few spare minutes?”

Chakotay’s gaze flickered over Tom. He was in civvies, it was late, and therefore it probably wasn’t ship’s business. There was something different in his expression. It took a moment for Chakotay to realize Tom was nervous. 

“Of course. Come in,” said Chakotay. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” 

“Have a seat.” After Tom sat on the indicated couch, Chakotay sat opposite and asked again, “So, how may I help?”

“It’s the Federation Famous Persons party. I was wondering if you had decided who you were going as.”

Tom felt pleased. He had spoken more formally than he would to Harry but more casually than he would to the captain. He hadn’t stammered and he hadn’t blushed.

“Not definitely. I’ve been considering a couple of the more noted ambassadors, but I haven’t made up my mind. Why?”

“I got this idea for a group of people to go together, and I wondered whether you would join us. There are eight people needed.”

“Eight people? To go as what? And who would you want me to be?”

“We’re going as Captain Kirk’s crew. You’d be Spock,” Tom said, looking at a spot on the wall.

Chakotay didn’t respond and Tom looked down to his hands as the silence lengthened. He knew this was a bad idea, but then Megan’s voice sounded in his head. This was not the time to let ‘passive Tom’ take over. He’d only asked Chakotay to join their group, nothing personal. He looked up.

That was what Chakotay had been waiting for. When Tom finally made eye contact, he asked, “Why me? Why not Vorik or Tuvok? They are Vulcan. I don’t have that ectomorphic body type.”

“That’s the whole point of dressing up. You don’t have to have the physical characteristics yourself, just the mannerisms. Rollins is going to be Chekov; looks nothing like him, but with a wig and a Russian accent he’ll be great. Murphy’s already practicing Dr McCoy’s drawl.” Tom became more enthusiastic as he continued after carefully ignoring Chakotay’s first question. “We accessed a lot of the historical footage stored in the computer banks to check out the mannerisms.” 

“Are you going to stick with being a helmsman and go as Sulu?”

“Actually, Harry wants a turn to fly, so he’s Sulu and I’m Captain Kirk. Watch!” Tom ran his hand through his hair, and then pulled a front lock slightly forward. He drew a full breath of air and his demeanor changed. He assumed the seated command posture as though on the Bridge. 

“Ahead warp factor three, Mr Sulu. Report please, Mr Spock,” he ordered.

Chakotay couldn’t help himself; he tilted his head slightly and raised one eyebrow.

“See. You’re getting into it already,” said Tom delightedly. He looked critically at Chakotay. “You’d probably be able to get away with combing your own hair forward and trimming it into shape. Add some pointy ears and away you go.”

“You mentioned there would be eight people. Who are the other three?”

“Ensign Swinn will be Uhura, Jenkins will be Nurse Chapel and Megan Delaney’s going to be Yeoman Rand.”

“I thought the Delaneys were going as the Robinson twins.” Chakotay and others had heard Jenny mention that in the Mess Hall the previous week.

“Not this time. So will you join with us?”

“Well…” Chakotay stalled as he thought quickly. Tom’s offer seemed genuine. If there was an ulterior motive to the invitation, it certainly wasn’t obvious. He decided to play along and see what eventuated. It would give him something to think about when things got boring during duty shifts. A thought occurred.

“Who’s going as Mr Scott? You can’t have Kirk’s crew without his chief engineer.”

A look of horror crossed Tom’s face.

“I can’t believe I forgot Mr Scott. I’ll have to find someone - unless you have any ideas?”

“Not at the moment.”

“No matter, we’ll think of someone.” Tom realized Chakotay hadn’t said yes or no to playing Spock, so he asked again, “So, will you be Spock?” He rubbed a sweaty palm along one thigh. The suspense was playing havoc with his nerves.

“Okay. The whole thing sounds fun. Thanks for asking me.”

“You will?” Tom’s voice rose in surprise. He flushed. “I mean, you will. That’s great.” He stood to leave. “I want the group to get together at least once before the party so we can get used to being a team.” He paused. “If that’s all right with you,” he added, unintentionally slipping back into passive mode, but this time diffidently rather than reflexively cocky.

“Sure. It’s a good idea. Let me know when.” Chakotay stood as well. 

An awkward silence grew as the two men stared at each other. 

“Well, umm, good night then,” said Tom finally and walked towards the door.

“Good night, Tom. See you on the Bridge.”

 

~

 

In the Mess Hall the next morning…

“So Tom, did you get hold of Vorik?” asked Harry, as he examined his breakfast choices. “Did he say yes?”

“No, but I don’t need to ask him any more. I’ve got someone else to be Spock,” said Tom. “What I need now is to find someone to be Mr Scott. I cannot believe I forgot him. Unless you think Vorik could do a Scottish accent?”

“Vorik with a Scottish accent? Nah! I can’t hear it. But I know who could.” Harry indicated the person just entering the room. “He’d be perfect - with a mask. Do you want me to ask him?”

Tom looked up to see whom Harry meant. “You’re right! Okay, thanks.” He waited for Harry to ask who was to be Spock.

“Who’s going to be Spock?” Harry was right on cue.

“Commander Chakotay,” replied Tom nonchalantly.

“You asked the Commander? To be Spock? And he said yes?”

“Well, yes. But it was Megan’s idea,” added Tom hurriedly, and then frowned as he realized he was making excuses again. “I agree with her though, and I want him to be Spock. I think he’ll be perfect.”

“Maybe you should be McCoy then. Didn’t he have the reputation for always sniping and bickering with Spock?”

“Friendly fire only, Harry. You’ve read the bios. They were good friends. And I’m more like Kirk than McCoy.” Tom leant forward, resting on his forearm and produced a killer smile, complete with heroically gleaming teeth and twinkling eye. He’d practiced that pose in front of his mirror. “See! And you’d say I grasp opportunities when they present themselves, wouldn’t you? Therefore, I’m grasping an opportunity to be just like Kirk. Gotta fly. I’ve got a half shift in Sickbay. See you later.”

“Bye, Tom.” He watched Tom leave without really seeing him. Harry had read the bios of a great many famous Starfleet officers, including Kirk and Spock. 

Kirk and Spock – Paris and Chakotay. 

Harry put two and two together and came up with a thoughtworthy total. Tom and Chakotay? That would explain a lot and gave him something to think about. He spent the fortunately uneventful morning going through the motions at Ops as he considered Tom’s behavior over the years in light of his having strong feelings for Chakotay instead of dislike. It was all beginning to make perfect sense. 

That evening, Megan arrived first at D-PAN’s meeting place. She hadn’t seen Tom since last night but had noticed the commander frowning over some PADDs during lunch. Every now and then, he’d raise one eyebrow, and his hand would creep up to his forehead and feel its position. She smiled at the memory. Tom entered the observation lounge in time to see her smiling and nodding to herself.

“Hey, Megan. What’s up?”

“You asked him and he agreed, right?”

“Yes!” replied Tom, and grinned broadly. 

They settled comfortably and began to talk. The Delaney-Paris Assertion Network was good for both of them.

 

~

 

It was just over half an hour before the Federation Famous Persons party was due to start. Tom paced up and down the observation lounge, waiting for the rest of his group to appear. It turned out the nine of them had been unable to get together at any other time before the party, but Tom was still keen for them to appear cohesive and comfortable with their characters.

Rollins dressed as Chekov arrived with Harry costumed as Sulu. The wig in Chekov’s style made Rollins look younger, and he greeted Tom with a well-rehearsed Russian accent.

“Keptin Kirk.”

“Mr Chekov. Mr Sulu. I’m glad to see you here on time.”

Footsteps and laughter emanated from the hallway.

All three men turned as a vision of pulchritude entered. Blonde hair in a high weave, a tiny, red, mini-skirted uniform and long, black stocking-clad legs ending in calf boots turned out to be Megan Delaney standing in the doorway.

“Captain Kirk, here are the reports for you to sign,’ cooed Megan in her Yeoman Rand persona. She carried a few old style PADDs that she presented to Tom, adding, “Your coffee, Sir.” and handed over a thermomug of real coffee. 

“Ah, thank you, Yeoman,” he responded, and grinned happily. This was going to work.

Carla Swinn followed Megan. She was dressed in an identical figure-hugging uniform. “Hailing frequencies open, Sir.” She drawled the standard communications officer’s line in a husky contralto, and then spoiled the effect when she broke into a giggle. 

Frank Murphy and Sarah Jenkins arrived together.

“Hey, Murphy, I mean, Dr McCoy, it’s nice to see you back in the blue again,” Rollins said in his normal voice. Murphy had recently transferred from Sciences to Services. “Nurse Cheppel, how are you this evening?” he continued, with the Russian accent reappearing as he got back into character.

Neither Murphy nor Jenkins had time to respond as a large Scottish engineer, looking more like the older Commander Scott than the younger version from the era his comrades were representing, came barreling through the door. He skidded to a halt in front of Tom and made his excuses for running late in a flawless imitation of ‘Scotty’ overlaid with Bolian exuberance. He’d actually been down in Engineering, and had misjudged the amount of time needed to apply the latex mask and gloves now covering his blue skin. He gave a commentary on the state of Voyager’s engines, which he referred to as belonging to the Enterprise, and soon had everyone in fits of laughter. 

Harry sidled up to Tom, who had moved to the side once Chell began his spiel. “I told you he’d be great as Mr Scott.”

Tom nodded distractedly, and looked towards the door. Where was Chakotay? Being last to arrive was out of character for both the commander and Mr Spock. 

The laughter of the others masked the sounds from the corridor, and the commander slipped in without anyone except a relieved Tom noticing him.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Captain Kirk. I seem to be having a little trouble with my ears.”

Chakotay stood straight in Spock’s blue Sciences uniform. Green-based theatrical makeup toned down his dark hues. Artfully applied shadows thinned down his broader face and deepened the set of his eyes. His normally arched eyebrows were now straight and a wig of silky black hair covered his own, which had been too short to style properly. More makeup hid the familiar tattoo, completing the change in Chakotay’s appearance. He held one hand to his right ear.

Murphy as McCoy opened the medkit, which he wore over his shoulder and withdrew a medical tricorder. He frowned as he scanned Spock.

“You appear to be suffering from auricular-helical detachment, no doubt due to that green blood of yours. I prescribe collo-epoxy muci-paste. Nurse Chapel, if you would assist me.”

Chakotay silently held out the tube of adhesive he’d brought with him, and sat on the couch. He tilted his head to allow Murphy and Jenkins to reattach his wayward ear. They others stood round smiling as McCoy and Chapel made a big production out of attending to Spock’s ear. Murphy must have been studying some interesting medical journals as he spouted out reams of highfalutin jargon with Sarah backing him to the best of her ability. The others joined in with comments, trying to keep in character amidst fits of laughter.

Tom finally called a halt to the horseplay. He need not have worried about people being comfortable together in character. He clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, people. Listen up. We are arguably the most famous crew from the Enterprise, so let’s go and wow everyone. I’ve programmed the computer with that passage of music the historical documents used practically every time they mentioned Kirk, Spock and the others. I’ve given Neelix the cue and he’ll have it playing as he announces our big entrance.”

“Not the theme music,” whined Harry.

“Do you have a problem with that, Ensign Sulu?” asked Captain Kirk, hazel contact lenses not hiding the twinkle in his eyes.

“No, Captain Kirk. No problem, Sir,” Ensign Sulu replied promptly.

“Good. Spock, McCoy, you’ll enter first with me, then the rest of you in this order.” 

Tom arranged everyone to his satisfaction. He didn’t notice Mr Spock watching him carefully, one eyebrow raised, as he contemplated Tom’s commanding personality and efficiency. Yeoman Rand kept an eye on both Spock and Kirk, and nudged Uhura. Megan had shared her thoughts about the likelihood of Tom and Chakotay being a couple with Carla, without giving away Tom’s real feelings. The two of them were prepared for an interesting evening in more ways than one. 

Neelix hovered inside the entrance to the ballroom, welcoming the guests to the Federation Famous Persons fancy dress party. He was enjoying the opportunity to inspect closely the variety of clever costumes people had come up with, and finding out more about the characters the crew had chosen to represent.

Captain Janeway almost out-Vulcaned the Vulcans when she arrived dressed as T’Pau. Haughty matriarchs and certain female Starfleet captains obviously shared a number of the same characteristics, as Kathryn Janeway barely had to act. Close contact with Tuvok over the years had provided her with ample opportunities to master the chief Vulcan mannerisms, and she wore the robes as one born to them.

Ayala was as dynamic as the real Khan Noonian Singh. His magnetic personality and bad-boy attitude attracted a number of the ladies and for the remainder of the evening he wasn’t to be seen without a bevy of scantily clad beauties draped around his barely covered torso and hanging on to his every word. 

Two thirds of the guests had arrived when Neelix received Tom’s signal that his party was ready to make their entrance. He gave the order to the computer and Beethoven’s Ninth symphony segued into a simple series of liquid notes, instantaneously recognized by almost all present.

As the full orchestra joined in with the historical theme music, Kirk, Spock and McCoy strode into the holodeck, followed by the others. They automatically formed a tableau as though posing for a publicity shot, with Kirk in the centre, Spock to his right and McCoy to his left. Scotty, Chekov and Sulu grouped themselves behind Mr Spock. Nurse Chapel pressed close to Dr McCoy. Uhura tucked in behind Rand and the two women stood at an angle that displayed their long legs to best advantage. Spontaneous applause broke out and with big grins, Kirk’s crew spilt up and mingled with the other guests.

The EMH, very liberally interpreting the theme, had persuaded B’Elanna to alter his matrix to allow him to attend as Kahless. He produced his holocamera and herded together a group of Enterprise captains, including Archer, Pike and Picard as well as Kirk for a formal portrait.

Zefram Cochrane conversed with Ambassador Sarek. Ambassadors from various worlds were popular choices, along with a selection of well-known anti-heroes such as Khan. Cyrano Jones cheekily handed out tribbles, fortunately plush models, which purred and trilled like the real thing when stroked. Naomi Wildman, allowed to stay for the early part of the evening and charmingly costumed as a miniature Caitian, had her arms full of the soft toys.

“Why, Miss Nine, who might you be portraying?” Dr McCoy’s southern charm had gone straight to Frank’s head.

“I believe you should correctly address me as Miss Seven, however this evening I am Elaan of Troyius.”

Dr McCoy complimented Elaan on her attire. He looked around, trying to recognize various colleagues in their costumes. “Who is that, all dressed up to the nines?”

“That is Ensign Anderson. She is Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed.” Seven was as pedantically correct with the titles as the real Lwaxana would have desired.

Eventually, the majority of Kirk’s crew found themselves together by the buffet where Neelix had outdone himself with the selection of food on offer. 

Captain Kirk picked up a serving fork and carefully poked a shiny blue concoction, which moved alarmingly on its dish. 

Dr McCoy withdrew his medical tricorder and thoroughly scanned it.

“It’s dead, Jim,” he pronounced solemnly. He removed the server from Tom’s hand, and helped himself to a generous portion. “It’s actually quite healthy. The tricorder says it’s loaded with calcium, magnesium and fluorine.” Ignoring the sniggers, Frank began eating it. If one discounted the color, it tasted okay. 

“Are you sure you don’t mean fluoride?”

Frank shook the tricorder and scanned the stuff again. “No. This thing says fluorine.”

“The punch looks interesting.” Tom eyed the green liquid. “You don’t want to scan that too, do you?”

“Nope. You should just take your courage in your hands and go for it.”

“Be careful, Tom, I mean, Captain Kirk. I heard Dalby threatening to spike the punch with the latest brew from the still. It’s rumored to be 90-proof.” Harry could not help warning Tom.

Tom looked around. “Dalby’s not even here. He said he wasn’t going to come if he couldn’t be Roger Maris, and while the guy is a sporting legend, he’s not famous in Federation history. Anyway, I’m game. Is anyone else?”

A volley of shaking heads was the response.

“Chickens!” Tom dipped the ladle into the bowl and filled a glass. He held it out. “Are you sure?”

The glass was taken from his hand. 

“Since you’re having some.” Chakotay waited until Tom filled a second glass for himself. “Cheers!” he toasted, and clinked their glasses together.

They downed their drinks at the same time, and immediately reached for something to eat. Their exclamations of disgust caused the others to laugh.

“We should stick a warning on that.” Tom wiped his mouth again.

The music changed to one of the First Contact compilations. This version had been released several months before Voyager became lost. The ‘Holographic Targs’ specialized in historical songs, and ‘Ooby Dooby’ filled the air.

“C’mon Frank,” cajoled Sarah, “I mean, ‘Leonard’. We haven’t danced once yet.”

“I’m a doctor, not a Liam Highett,” grumbled Frank, as he named a former three-sector dancesport champion and current star of the one touring dance show extravaganzas. “Go find yourself another Terpsichore.” He helped himself to more of the blue substance.

She turned to the others and raised her eyebrow. Tom took Sarah’s hand and pulled her onto the dance floor, saying, “Vulcans don’t dance, but starship captains do, and I haven’t danced with anyone yet.”

Megan was near enough to hear a muttered, “But I’m only a half Vulcan,” from Chakotay, who had stayed close to Tom’s side most of the evening.

Flushed and laughing after their impromptu jive Tom and Sarah returned to the buffet where Spock, McCoy, Uhura and Rand had remained. A slower number began playing and Megan maneuvered Tom onto the floor.

“You need to ask Chakotay to dance.”

“I can’t, Megan.”

“Yes, you can. You know you want to.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Look, Tom, Carla and I are going to dance the next slow dance. I’m going to ask her in front of the others. You ask Chakotay then.”

“I can’t, Megan,” repeated Tom.

“Come on, Tom, where’s all that assertiveness gone?”

“He won’t dance with me, besides, he’s a Vulcan tonight.”

“Only half. He said so himself, after you took Sarah up to dance. I think he will. Besides, there’s at least two documented occasions where Captain Kirk and Mr Spock were captured by the media dancing together. What have you got to lose?”

“You’re doing this to me again.”

“We’re partners, Tom,” Megan said gently.

“Okay then. I’ll ask him.”

Megan squeezed his arm and when the music ended they walked companionably back to the group, who were still at the buffet. B’Elanna, dressed as a Gorn captain, and Harry joined them.

Tom’s taste in music was evident when a couple more numbers from the twentieth century played. Dolly Parton sang brightly about working ‘9 to 5’ and ‘See You Later Alligator’ got a large number of people up to dance.

When the computer began playing a Vic Fontaine selection, Megan asked Carla to dance. As the two of them moved onto the floor and slid into each other’s arms, Tom caught Megan’s small nod, mentally steeled himself, and asked Chakotay to dance.

Harry had also been keeping an eye on Tom. He surreptitiously crossed his fingers and his superstition was rewarded when Chakotay accepted. He dragged B’Elanna back onto the floor and steered her close to Megan and Carla.

“What’s going on?” B’Elanna asked Harry.

“I’m pretty sure Tom wants Chakotay.”

B’Elanna frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe it was the punch.”

“No, it’s more than you think.”

“Why do you say that?” chimed in Megan.

Harry explained what he’d noticed in the Mess Hall and the conclusions he’d reached. “I think Megan obviously knows something,” he finished up.

“Just watch,” she said, without giving anything away.

Within minutes of the two men taking to the dance floor, other couples decided that now was a good time to dance, and purposefully drifted towards the corner where Tom and Chakotay had migrated. They found they were unable to get too near as Yeoman Rand and Lieutenant Uhura began performing a series of intricate moves that required some space. Mr Sulu’s Gorn partner also needed a lot of room to move, and Nurse Chapel had dragged Dr McCoy onto floor. It was best that others did not get too close as his uncoordinated flailing had the potential to cause someone an injury - Chapel had been trying to teach him to be more graceful and was quite adept at keeping her feet out of the way. Mr Chekov also spotted what was happening. He adroitly disengaged one of Khan’s beauties and speedily waltzed her over to fill up the remaining gap between the increasingly curious onlookers and Kirk and Spock. It seemed that the loyalty and support the real Kirk’s crew had for one another had somehow infected those impersonating them.

Vic Fontaine’s mellow tones filled the air. The song was from the ‘Twelve Moons’ recording that Megan had brought with her. 

‘Fly Me to the Moon’ followed ‘Two Moons Rising’ and Tom began humming along. He felt incredibly happy; Chakotay’s hands were warm where they touched him, and the feel of the big man’s muscles beneath his own hands sent tingles along his nerves. Chakotay had not made any move to stop dancing at the end of the first song and his face wore a very un-Vulcan smile. He seemed as content as Tom to stay right where he was.

“Why?” asked Chakotay, indicating themselves with a nod. It was the first word either of them had spoken since going on to the dance floor.

This was it, thought Tom. Make or break. “Because…because I wanted to.” He took a breath. Emotional honesty was something he and Megan had talked a lot about. “I’ve wanted to for a long time.” 

“They’re talking at last,” B’Elanna said, and Harry swung her so he was facing the action. 

Megan and Carla sashayed closer. “They’re still speaking. Hopefully we’re watching the birth of a beautiful romance.” She started encouraging Tom even though he could not hear her. Harry and B’Elanna almost forgot to keep moving as they listened to Megan’s mantra. “Remember your similarities. Be yourself, Tom…”

B’Elanna took the lead and turned Harry away so she could get another look. ‘Mandreyan Moonrise’ came to an end and was followed by a break in the music. Tom and Chakotay ignored the interest they were generating and left the ballroom by one of the balcony doors. The others headed towards a group of unoccupied seats. 

“Megan.” 

Jenny had followed her sister back with the others. She looked pointedly at the entwined hands of Megan and Carla.

“Megan, we need to talk. Now.”

Megan turned to Carla for support. Carla squeezed her hand.

“Please, Meggy.” Jenny’s voice softened as she used her sister’s baby nickname. “It’s okay, really. I just need to talk to you alone.”

Megan nodded and kissed Carla, saying she would return shortly and the twins walked away to find a private corner. 

“What’s going on?” asked Rollins as he came back after returning his partner, arrayed in an Orion slave girl’s revealing costume, to Khan. “I mean, I saw something was happening, and I realized they didn’t need a lot of people hanging round and that you could do with a little extra crowd control, but when did the commander and Paris…?”

Harry considered his words carefully and then spoke up. “They haven’t, until tonight. I think Tom has had a thing for Commander Chakotay for a long time, but hasn’t done anything about it until now, and I also think Megan had something to do with him making a move tonight.” He turned to Carla. “Did she say anything to you?”

“Not specifically. We’ve talked about the two of them, and I know she thinks that given the right circumstances, whatever’s between them could develop into something special. You know, it was Tom who helped us get together. He encouraged Megan to assert herself with Jenny. Maybe she returned the favor. It’s amazing what you can achieve when you’ve got the right support. I hope the commander won’t turn him down.”

“You know, I don’t think he will,” B’Elanna said suddenly. She pulled off the Gorn headpiece and tucked it under her arm. “Look at the evidence from just now. Firstly, he did accept Tom’s invitation to dance. He wouldn’t have if he really hated him. Chakotay is not a hypocrite. Secondly, they stayed there throughout several songs without verbal or physical violence. If it were just for politeness, like you do when you’re being a diplomat, he would have just made it just for one song. Then they were talking at least half of that time, and finally they were smiling when they left together, and they didn’t seem the least concerned about what everyone’s reaction would be to them leaving together like that.”

“The fine line,” said Harry.

The others looked at him in askance.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate. Tom said something to me in the Mess Hall a little while ago and it got me thinking. What if their antagonistic behavior towards each other was not due the fact that they didn’t like each other but because they did and they just couldn’t acknowledge it?”

B’Elanna tipped her head to one side as she considered Harry’s suggestion. “That works for me.” 

“So, what now?” asked Carla.

“We wait,” replied B’Elanna.

~

Twin moons hung in the holographic sky, and were reflected on the surface of the lake. Night birds called to one another, their bell-like tones heard over the muffled sounds of music from the ballroom. Several couples could be seen strolling arm in arm around the grounds. Tom and Chakotay stood on the balcony, silent for the moment, both content to enjoy the scenery and feel the presence of the one next to him. 

Tom leaned forward, resting his forearms on the ledge. A plethora of good feelings welled up inside him. Happiness was predominating along with a sense of peace, warmth, love and a healthy amount of lust. Was it too soon to kiss the man, he wondered? 

Inside the ballroom, the minutes ticked by slowly. Most of Kirk’s crew gave up all pretences of socializing and huddled together in a corner as they speculated about their two absent members.

Carla waited patiently for Jenny to finish talking to Megan. She was unconcerned. She knew Megan was now secure enough in their relationship to deal with Jenny and she hoped Jenny would come to realize her twin was not a carbon copy of herself. All Megan wanted was her sister’s acceptance of her individuality and equality. 

Carla looked up and smiled. “Here they come.”

“Tom and Chakotay?” B’Elanna twisted around and scanned the balcony doors.

“No. Megan and Jenny.”

“It must be all right. They’re walking together,” said Sarah, sounding relieved.

The twins reached the circle of chairs and paused to hug and kiss another before Jenny left to return to Doug Bronowski, her escort for the evening. Megan dabbed her eyes again as she sat next to Carla. 

“I’m okay,’ she said hastily. “You all know Jenny hasn’t been too happy with me recently. Well, she said she suddenly saw things from my point of view, and in her typical Jen fashion, she needed to deal with it right away.” Megan’s laugh was shaky. “She won’t find it easy for a while, remembering not to boss me around, and no doubt there will be times when I forget to assert myself, but we’ve worked out a way to deal with occasions like that.” She sniffed and shook out her handkerchief, which was damp and adorned with streaks of black mascara. Carla pushed a clean serviette into her hand. “So, tell me quickly. What’s happening with Tom and Chakotay?”

“We don’t know. They’re still outside.” B’Elanna’s voice was laced with curiosity and not a little frustration. “Do you think we could peek?”

“B’Elanna!”

“If we stay down this end and not get too close…”

“Come on, Sarah! I’m game. Besides, wouldn’t their good friend McCoy check on them if he happened to be concerned?”

“I don’t know about that, Frank.”

“Nurse Chapel would be anxious too,” he wheedled. He leant closer and whispered in her ear, “We could make out under the stars for a bit.”

“Ahem,” coughed Sarah. “Why Doctor McCoy, you’re quite correct. A little healthy concern for Captain Kirk and Mr Spock would be normal for the CMO and Head Nurse of the Enterprise.” She grabbed Frank’s hand and pulled him to his feet. 

They left the ballroom by one of the lower doors. When they didn’t return after a few minutes, Carla and Megan announced they would check on them, and then see what Tom and Chakotay were doing and report back. 

Almost immediately, Megan put her head around the door and waved the others over. “Frank and Sarah are…umm…otherwise engaged. Tom and Chakotay are at the other end, but they don’t seem to be doing anything in particular.”

“Let me see,” insisted B’Elanna and she wriggled passed Megan. 

To her left, Frank and Sarah were wrapped in each other’s arm, oblivious to their surroundings. To her right, Tom was leaning on the balcony ledge with Chakotay standing next to him. They were too far away for anyone to hear anything, but as they watched, Tom straightened up and turned. His back was now to the watchers so it was now even more difficult to see what was happening.

Tom took Chakotay’s hands in his and looked into the brown eyes that stared quizzically into his own. 

“I just can’t get used to the hazel eyes,” said Chakotay.

“I could take the contact lenses out now,” offered Tom. “Or shut my eyes.”

“No. Don’t. Don’t shut your eyes.”

Tom kept his eyes open as he let go one hand. He reached up and ran the back slowly down Chakotay’s jaw. He leaned forward, asking a silent question, which was answered with a smile. 

Tom let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He touched his lips gently to those in front of him, just brushing across them lightly, then leaned back to examine the expression in the eyes in front of him. Whatever he saw satisfied him and he moved forward again and began to kiss Chakotay in earnest.

B’Elanna clutched Harry excitedly as the kiss showed no sign of stopping and every sign of continuing indefinitely. Chakotay’s hands were visible, pressed against the gold command shirt Tom wore. She turned to make a comment to Megan, only to find Megan and Carla duplicating the other couples’ actions. She shook her head and smiled resignedly at Harry. 

“B’El…” Harry made a sudden move and wrapped B’Elanna in his arms and they kissed in the moonlight on the balcony.

Rollins and Chell, who had been unable to resist the temptation to check out the action, looked at each other and shrugged.

“Err, must be something in the air,” offered Chell without any sign of a Scots accent.

“Nah, it was the punch. Neelix probably replicated Love Potion Number 9. Maybe we should go back inside?” said Rollins.

“An excellent idea,” replied Chell solemnly, and then continued as though nothing was out of the ordinary, “Have you sampled any of those miniature pies?”

“No. Are they any good?

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried them either. What say we get some now?” 

“What about the others?”

“Oh, they’ll come in when they are good and ready, and I don’t need to see any more, do you?” 

Rollins shook his head and they went back in to the buffet.

Meanwhile Chakotay’s hands had worked their way round to the front of Tom’s body. He loosened the gold shirt and slid a hand under the material so he could feel the toned muscles and warm smooth skin. Tom mirrored his movements and one of his hands played under Chakotay’s shirt, moving from the bumps of his spine and tracing along the ribs to the front of his chest and tangling in the hair he found there. 

Slowly the caressing hands stilled as both men realized there was something amiss. They withdrew a little and stared at each other. Tom patted the mat of hair he could feel on Chakotay’s chest and raised one eyebrow. 

“Fascinating,” he remarked solemnly.

“I think that’s my line,” said Chakotay, as his hand wandered over the hairless expanse of Tom’s chest for a moment longer before withdrawing it from beneath Tom’s shirt. “You shaved your chest.”

“I was going for realism,” offered Tom. “Just in case. You know Kirk had a tendency to get into situations where his shirt got ripped. Obviously, Starfleet improved the manufacturing standards since then, as our shirts do not seem to tear anywhere near as easily. Megan suggested it when we were talking about costumes and getting into character. What about you?”

“Actually, ‘Yeoman Rand’ suggested the same thing to me when she dropped Spock’s wig into my office two days ago. She said the realism was your idea, and left me a data rod containing details of theatrical makeup with the section on how to attach fake chest hair bookmarked. So then it wasn’t really your idea?”

Tom flushed. “She had guessed I felt something for you ages ago, and then when I invited her to be Yeoman Rand, she called me on it. She told me I should assert myself and do something about it. I suppose she thought she was helping.”

“It was a good idea - a very good idea. I’m all in favor of realism.”

“I’m glad. I guess we should go back inside. The others will be wondering about us. Or maybe not,” added Tom as he turned and caught sight of the three entwined couples at the other end of the balcony. 

“We should return in any case so we can make our farewells. I believe we have an experiment to conduct. In the area of realism,” clarified Chakotay, as Tom looked puzzled. “To see whether the replicator has made these uniforms to the appropriate Starfleet standards.”

Understanding dawned and Tom’s pulse rate leapt. Chakotay wanted rip his shirt off! “A most admirable suggestion,” he replied solemnly and then grinned. “Shall we?” and he indicated Chakotay should precede him. In the end, they walked together to the lower balcony door where they paused near the others.

“Should I announce a red alert?” asked Tom.

“I believe the ‘Captain’s Cough’ should be sufficient,” replied Chakotay, getting back into ‘Spock mode’.

“Ahem.” Tom cleared his throat in his most commanding fashion and the couples sprang apart. “Front and centre, people. This crew needs to get back to the party.”

Harry stared at Tom for a moment, and then his eyes flickered to Chakotay and back to Tom. 

Happy with what he saw, he answered briskly, “Aye Sir,” and pulled B’Elanna along with him. Frank and Sarah nodded and followed them. 

Megan hesitated. “Captain Kirk, sir…Tom…”

“Come on. One last dance, Yeoman Rand,” and Tom proffered his arm. Spock and Uhura followed them and the two couples swung onto the floor once they entered the ballroom. 

 

As they danced, Tom filled Megan in on a couple of the less personal details, and thanked her warmly. “You’re a real friend, Megan.”

“D-Pan forever, Tom. Thank you too. You know Jenny and I made up tonight.”

“That’s great Megan. I’m so pleased to hear that. Now we’d best go and claim our respective partners for the last dance.” 

As Santos Santini crooned the lyrics to ‘Magic at Midnight’, Tom swayed with Chakotay, and Megan moved away with Carla. That was the last song in the bracket, indicating it was actually midnight. Kirk’s crew automatically reformed to make their big exit.

T’Pau made her way over to Mr Spock. She looked up, while managing to give the impression she was actually looming over him.

“I see thee has finally discovered what was always under thy nose.” 

END


End file.
